


Fluttering

by Shi_Toyu



Series: Shi's Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Fills [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), BAMF Edwin Jarvis, Crying, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Feels, Kid Fic, Kid Tony Stark, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Protective Edwin Jarvis, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Protectiveness, Tony Stark Bingo 2018, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wingfic, Wings, Worried Jarvis (Iron Man movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 08:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu
Summary: Tony can do this. He's a fast learner. He can totally do this.





	Fluttering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shi_Toyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/gifts).



> *sings* Happy birthday to me~!
> 
> Welcome to my utterly shameless birthday gift to myself. Please feel free to leave me a gift of your own in the form of a comment. ;) Also my first fill for the Tony Stark Bingo! This square was 'fluttering'

Tony clung to the trunk of the tree with small hands, feet shuffling along the branch he was perched on. He wasn’t even that far up, only about twenty feet, but for someone who only stood just under three feet it _seemed_ a lot higher. The ground may as well have been miles away. His wings, still grey and puffed up with kidling floof but showing clear patches of what would one day be adult plumage, fluttered behind him. They reacted instinctively to his nerves and beat the air in an age-old attempt to flee the nonexistent ‘predator’ causing him distress.

They almost sent him toppling headfirst off the branch as he lost his balance. Instead, he ended up scraping his palms but managing to hold on. His breaths came in short little pants. He could do this. He knew he could. He was three whole years old. And two months on top of that. He knew the laws of inertia and gravity like the back of his hand. He’d snuck all the books on biology that he could get his hands on out of his father’s office. He understood exactly what it was he needed to do in order to make this work.

Today, Tony was going to fly.

True, most kids didn’t really get the hang of flying until they were four or five, but Tony had always been a fast learner. Everyone said so. Except his dad, of course, but it was only a matter of time. If Tony could manage to fly this early, there was no way his dad wouldn’t be impressed! Tony could just imagine his face, the way his mouth would drop open in surprise, but the edges would still be tugged up into a grin. He’d probably give that short bark of laughter he gave whenever Uncle Obie was over and made one of those insulting comments about someone from work. (Tony didn’t understand what made them funny, but his dad and Uncle Obie certainly did. Uncle Obie just said he’d understand when he was older. Psh. _Whatever_. Tony was ready to understand _now_.)

Easing his death-grip on the tree’s trunk, Tony took another peak down over the edge of the branch. The vibrant, green grass of the Stark Gardens, his mother’s pride and joy, greeted him. It was very thick grass. It probably wouldn’t hurt much even if he fumbled his landing, he told himself. Tony took a deep breath. He could do this. He could totally do this. He was _going_ to do this. Squaring his shoulders in determination, Tony let go of the trunk entirely and crawled out a bit further onto the branch. He needed plenty of space for his wings, after all. They spanned just over four feet from wingtip to wingtip.

Carefully, so as not to topple himself over, Tony stretched out his wings. He absolutely loved the hints of glossy blue-black peeking through his kidling grey. When all his adult feathers finished coming in, Tony’s wings were going to look _badass_. (Not that he would ever say it like that in front of Jarvis. The butler didn’t approve of such language, as he’d told Tony several times. It never stopped his mom or dad, though.)

“ _Young Sir!_ ”

Speaking of Jarvis, Tony spotted him as he burst out onto the balcony of one of the second-floor rooms and took a running leap over the railing. His grand, dark grey wings were _huge_ and spread out to catch the updrift of the breeze before beating powerfully at the air to keep Jarvis aloft. He made it look so easy as he barreled across the expanse of the Stark Garden.

Tony could totally do this.

He launched himself off the branch, wings flapping furiously. For a moment, maybe two, he felt utterly weightless. Joy surged through him. He’d done it! He was flying! He was- Gravity caught up and Tony could feel it as his body was yanked back down toward the earth. A panicked cry escaped him as the grass rushed up toward him. He couldn’t even brace for the pain he knew was coming, to busy flailing wildly as he fell.

Scant inches from the ground, strong arms snatched him out of the air and pulled him close before both he and Jarvis went tumbling across the grass. The arms kept Tony pressed close as they rolled, not letting him go until they had come to a stop. Tony scrambled to get off of Jarvis’ chest. He was laying on his back, wings pinned beneath him, and Tony couldn’t tell right away if he was hurt.

“Are you quite alright, Young Sir?” Jarvis asked in his cultured, British accent as he levered himself up to a seated position.

He ran a critical eye over Tony’s body, looking for injuries, and it kind of made Tony want to cry. Stupid, stupid! How could he have been so dumb? Did he think he was better than everyone else, to somehow think he’d be able to do this? To accomplish what no one else had _ever?_ He rubbed a forearm across his eyes to get rid of any wetness that might be escaping.

“I’m fine,” he choked out. “Are you? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

Jarvis just gave him a wry smile before moving to stand.

“Nothing more than a few ruffled feathers, I assure you,” he comforted. “Though I must ask what in the world you were thinking, leaping from such a tall branch.”

Shame-faced, Tony looked at the ground. He couldn’t look Jarvis in the eyes.

“I was trying to fly,” he admitted.

Jarvis chuckled good-naturedly as he patted himself off.

“Ah, well. Perhaps next time you could pursue your endeavors from a lower altitude?”

He didn’t _sound_ mad, or even disapproving. Tony snuck a glance up only to do a horrified double take as he spotted the grass stains adorning Jarvis’s suit and the tear along the left shoulder seam.

“Your suit!” he exclaimed. “I ruined it!”

Now the tears did come. How could Jarvis _not_ be mad at Tony? And surely his dad would find out about his failure when Jarvis had to put in a request for a replacement suit. Oh, this was _awful!_ He hiccupped on a sob as Jarvis dropped to one knee in front of him a pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, Young Sir,” he said softly, threading long fingers through Tony’s hair, “it is nothing. There is no suit in the world that is worth more to me than your safety.”

Tony only sobbed harder.

“But I ruined it!” he cried. “I ruin everything!”

Jarvis shushed him.

“Hardly,” he scolded gently. “How could you say such a thing? Just last week you fixed the toaster! Ana still smiles every time she uses it.”

“R-really?” Tony stammered out between his tears.

“Really,” Jarvis promised. “Now, come along. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up. Your tutors have been looking for you.”

Tony rubbed frantically at his cheeks to clear them and sniffled.

“They’re boring,” he accused, voice still watery. “They think they know everything. But I asked Mr. Abram yesterday where babies came from and he tried to tell me they came from _storks_. Like there’s some baby factory out there somewhere and hyper-intelligent birds just flying around and dropping kids off on the doorsteps of unsuspecting couples.”

He wrinkled his nose at the thought and Jarvis chuckled as he guided him back toward the mansion.

“Well, he is your language teacher. It’s not exactly his area of expertise.”

Tony huffed.

“It’s not like it’s difficult information to find. I found a book on it in dad’s library in, like, five seconds.”

If Tony didn’t know Jarvis as well as he did, he never would have noticed the man’s momentary pause. A glance upward revealed a pinched expression on his face.

“Ah, exactly what kind of book was this?”

Tony shrugged.

“Biology, I guess? It had a bunch of pictures in it, and I don’t know why anyone would want to do _that_ kind of stuff with somebody else, but I guess if you really want a baby…? Is that why you and Ana don’t have any kids?”

Jarvis cleared his throat before responding.

“I’m sure you’ll understand it much better once you’re older,” he answered without answering. “For now, why don’t you just concentrate on your flying, hm? I’m sure if you practice some strengthening exercises, your wings will build up some more muscle in no time.”

That was a great idea, actually, as well as a thoroughly distracting one. Who needed babies when there was the possibility of _flight_ to focus on?

“I’ll check dad’s library for some books on it!” he decided. “There are books on _everything_ in there!”

“Not before your lessons, you won’t,” Jarvis chided. “I’ll make you a deal. Don’t give your tutors a hard time today and I will have a selection of books ready for you by the time your lessons are over.”

Tony beamed up at him.

“Deal.”

Jarvis was the _best_.


End file.
